Shh
by Clytemnestra Abigaile
Summary: Ron awakens to find Hermione outside the burrow crying. What will he do?  THIS IS SET IN THE SUMMER BEFORE THE SEVENTH BOOK  / I think it's super sweet. :  Rated T just in case. Please R&R. :D First fic. :" Thankiess!


Please be kind. :) Rate & Review. It's my first fic, so constructive criticism, please. I hope you enjoy!

It was amazing how quiet it was that evening. It was one o'clock in the morning, and the sound of rain splattering down had woken Ron Weasley up. The weather, although somewhat dull, had make him feel good. Was it the smell of the wet soil? Or maybe the pitter-patter of water on the roof? He wasn't quite sure, but he liked it all the same.

It was the summer before his final year at Hogwarts, along with his best friends, the boy who lived, Harry Potter, and by far the smartest girl in both the wizarding realm and the land of Muggles. The three of them hadn't seen one another since the school year has ceased, and, with the uprising of Voldemort and the Death Eaters fast approaching, Ron couldn't wait to see them.

As he pulled out his wand from his pocket, muttering the word "Lumos," a small ball of light appeared at the tip of the willow and unicorn hair magical object. He took a handful of jelly beans out of the cupboard and stuffed them into his mouth. The sugar gave him energy, while the energy gave him hope as to how the war would go. Suddenly, a **BANG** came from the front porch. Ron's eyes widened as he, filled with caution, neared the door with his wand at ready. Quickly but silently, he pulled the door open.

In almost completely tattered clothing and soaked from head to toe, a girl with usually frizzy hair that currently stuck to her neck and back like glue sat. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she had her hands on her cheeks to catch tears. Her elbows rested on the worn-out jeans, and yet, to Ron, she was still the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on.

"Hermione," he said, mouth left hanging slightly ajar. The light brown haired miss turned toward him. As swiftly as she could recite a spell, she stood and began to run away from the house.

Ron, however, was more so and was able to catch up to her before she left the Weasley's land. He grabbed her wrist tightly. She tried to shake him off, but it was of no use. She grabbed tried to apparate away, but Ron was fast, and he said an anti-disapparation charm.

"Hermione," he repeated. He could hear her sobs and could feel her pulse vibrating his fingers.

Hermione turned to reveal a face scratched and bruised and beautiful. "I know, Ron. I shouldn't be here. But I don't know where else to go now, and I really need someone and…"

"Shhh." He quieted her down as her crying became too over-powering for words. "Shh." He said again. It had no effect.

By now, Hermione's face was streaked with tears; her chest rose with her irregular breaths as she struggled.

"Shhhhh." He tried once more, and, this time, it worked, but just a little bit. Her sobs had transformed into whimpers and drops of salting liquid pouring from her eyes. Only at that point had she noticed that Ron's hands were gripping her shoulders tightly –protectively, none-the-less. She looked up at him, and their eyes locked. Awkward silence filled the air with a high-pitched ring.

"'Mione, please. Tell me what's wrong." He stepped toward her in an attempt to show her comfort.

No response was heard; only gasps for breathe sounded and a falling of a singular tear from her deep brown eyes.

As gently as he could, Ron placed his sweaty palm on her cheek and caught the tear with his thumb.

Hermione, crying harder, wrenched his hand off her face, spun around and scrunched her face up, trying her best to stay silent as she did as she, like a true Gryffindor.

"Hermione, I'm your best friend. Please," Ron paused, "Just look at me."

"Tergeo," she muttered before facing him once more. No more water was on her face, although it was still obvious that she had been crying. She just looked at him, and he at her. No words were spoken for a few minutes.

"Hermione, please."

Silence droned.

"Hermione."

More silence. Then she spoke.

"I had to do something to them. He-" Her voice broke, "He could have hurt them to try to get to us and to Harry. So I did it. I had to." She wailed in sadness, yet no tears came out of her eyes. Ron assumed that she had run out.

"'Mione, please. I'm not nearly as smart as you are. I don't know what you did, yet." His voice was compassionate and sympathetic, yet showing empathy at the same time. It was too bad that Hermione wasn't looking at him but at the moon.

"And now I just look at the sky and hope that they are too because that's the only thing we share now."

"Hermione-"

"I changed their memories. They don't know me anymore." She stood to emphasize what she was saying. Her hands formed fists. "And I hate knowing that they don't. I don't deserve to know you and Harry for what I did! I just deprived people and performed magic on Muggles -my parents, no less. And-" She removed her wand. "Nobody loves me. At least Harry has you and your family and Ginny. Who do _I _have? NOBODY. _Nobody. _And nobody wants to have nob-"

"I love you."

She was quiet, then she spoke. "Ron, please don't lie for me. "

He gulped, pain beating through his veins. He finally had the courage, and she didn't believe him. "Sorry," he muttered, a tear forming at his eye. "But, Hermione?"

"What?" She snapped.

"I do love you."

She fell silent. "You aren't joking?"

"In the seven years I've known you, I could have said that so many times, and each time it would be more and more true."

He was hoping for a kiss or a hug, but it was not to be. She just snuggled her head into the crook of his neck and let herself fall asleep on it.

After being engulfed in thoughts of happiness, he noticed that Hermione, who was snoring lightly mouth barely opened. He chuckled before lifting her like a baby and carrying her up to his room. Ron placed her on his bed carefully as to not hurt her. Grabbing a coat from his closet and making it a pillow, he laid down on the floor beside the wooden frame of the bunk and stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, reliving all the things that had just occurred in his head. He was nearly slumbering when the voice of an angel spoke his name in a whisper.

"Hermione?"

"Can we pretend that that never happened?"

"Why?"

"Just for now. There's a war about to go on, and we need to focus on helping Harry."

Ron felt downgraded, being placed second once more to The Boy Who Lived. He knew that she spoke the truth, though. They needed to save the world before focusing on other matters.

"Okay. But, Hermione?"

"Yes, Ronald?"

"Whatever happens, I want you to know that I will always be yours."

She was in awe at what he said. It was written all over her stiff body, still soaking wet.

"I love you, Ron. I really do."

"You too, 'Mione." Ron said, grabbing her hand off the bed and cradling it in his large one as they both drifted off into a deep and meaningful sleep.


End file.
